The Parting Of Ways
by QueenOfTheSmurfs
Summary: An edited version of my GCSE English narrative story. Just a one shot,so will not be continuing,but hope you like it all the same. All human. Very OOC.


**As part of my GCSE English, I had to write a narrative story, and I wanted to put an edited version of it on here. This is a one-shot, so I will not be continuing as it's only ever meant to be a one-shot. I hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hush Hush.**

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I realised it was a mistake as soon as I turned the corner. It was ludicrous, idiotic even, to have thought for even a second that I would be able to face him again, not after what's happened. Not after he's left me. Wrapping my arms around myself, I stepped cautiously towards him; he remained dead still, following my movements with his eyes like a predator stalking their prey. While I look exhausted and haggard, he looks exactly the same as when I first met him. His hair was still the uncombed jet-black mess, his midnight eyes glistening with hidden secrets and emotions.

"You're probably surprised to see me here. I know it's been a while and I'm sorry for that, but I just needed…time. Time to think, I guess, and to accept what's happened." It fell silent for a moment as I tried to stay in control of what I was gonna say. I looked up at the cherry-blossom tree behind us and back down at Patch, wrinkling my nose to keep the tears at bay. "Just answer me one question. Why? Why did you give up? We had forever, stretched out in front of us…do you remember the day you asked me to marry you? We were going to tell everyone the day after the party, weren't we?" My voice cracked at the end. Whenever I think back to that day, the emotions still drown me…

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Patch was lounging in the park, basking in the shade of the cherry-blossom tree, while I lay sprawled out next to him, studying his features. Glowing caramel skin, razor-sharp cheekbones, and those warm luscious lips that I'd just like t-

"Nora" he stood up and offered his hand out for me to grab. Hoisting me up onto my feet, he remained clutching my hand. "Nora" he began again, "today is our three-year anniversary, and I have loved every day with you. You've changed who I was, made me better. I'll never be good enough for you, but I just know that I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much." He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black box. My eyes widened and I instinctively slapped his arm, quite hard. "Not quite the reaction I was hoping for." He pressed his lips together, cleared his throat and looked up at me. "Nora Grey, I promise to love you forever." Patch flipped open the box open and I gasped; inside the box was a beautiful emerald ring, set in a white band and studded with tiny diamonds. "Will you marry me?"

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"It was perfect that day." There was no point trying to stop the tears now, so I let them come, "You always promised me that you were to stay and that was the day I finally believed you…but you lied! You lied to me!" No response. I snorted in disgust. "I should've known you were lying. Nobody's ever stuck around for me, why did I believe that you would be any different?" I turned my head to the side, away from him. "Do you know what the worst part is? You just walked away. I told you I was pregnant and you seemed happy, you said everything was perfect, but then you just went! Walked away and left me on my own!" I sunk to the floor; I didn't have the energy left to stand up. "All I want to do is scream, cry and stay in bed until you come back to me. But I can't; I have to look after our baby, carry on because you're not here anymore." You're dead. "Dead."

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Dear Patch,

I've decided to start writing letters to you. Vee- your sister, not the crazy lady down the shop- says I'm not allowed to visit your grave because it causes too much stress; I have to wait until after the baby's born. I'm 22 weeks pregnant today. It feels weird that you're not here; I always imagined you being here during the pregnancy. Going out at ridiculous times to satisfy my food cravings, dodging a pint glass during an argument. I felt them kicking this morning, for the first time…it made me cry. My mom just says it's the hormones, but I can tell she's lying, trying to make me feel better. I went with her and Vee yesterday to a music show. You would've loved it there. Lots of stalls selling guitars and band t-shirts, posters of dead rock stars and those tacky, over-the-top we always used to joke about. Your mother held up a Kurt Cobain t-shirt and said "Patch would've loved this." I can't do that. I can't talk about you as if you aren't coming back. I can't say 'used' or 'loved' or any word ending in 'd'.

I overheard people gossiping about me in our café, too. How I'm writing letters to you as if you've just gone on holiday and you'll be back soon. I don't listen to them. I need to find a way to keep a connection to you, talk to you about what's happening in life so I can feel, in a way, that you're experiencing it with me. Above all I just want to tell you how much I love you, how much I will always love you. It's become and will remain an obsession. Writing these letters, you are alive to me, although I know I won't be able to hug you again. As the weeks go by, I'm getting more and more nervous about the birth, but Jane said she'll be there to help me.

I want their first words to be Daddy…just for you. Though they won't have you, I'll teach them to love you. I'll teach them that you're always with them.

I love you. So much.

Love, Nora

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**Thankyou for reading. Please review and let me know what you thought of it.**


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